I Don't Mind
by Violetti
Summary: There's an alien robot living in Jack's garage, but...at least it's friendly? [AU. Primeverse].
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: I don't even know what this fic is, but I loved writing it. I also have a terrible habit of writing fics and then never posting them. I'm trying to break that habit. Also, I know the whole "Jack's dad is a jerk" is a common theme, but I thought it added an interesting tone/voice to the story. So, I kept it. Arcee comes in later. I don't kid about slow burns. R&R, please!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own.

* * *

**Chapter One**

_Optimism is the foundation of courage._

_~ Nicholas Murray Butler_

* * *

When Jack was nine when his parents got a divorce. Dad got the house, the treehouse, and both cars. Mom got Jack. She got a lawyer, a court-enforced restraining order, and then transferred to a new ER in Jasper, Nevada. Jack turned ten, then eleven, and eventually ended up babysitting the neighborhood kids for extra money.

It wasn't a bad deal.

Raf was a quiet boy. Shy. He liked books, computers, and racecar games. Usually, Raf just hung out in the garage in the backseat of Jack's mom's crappy, secondhand Camaro, which was actually an alien robot from the planet Cybertron. Raf was so good at entertaining both himself and the Camaro that Jack rarely had to do any actual babysitting. In fact, unless Miko was around, he mostly just sat around the house texting girls he liked. Or he surfed the 'net for pictures of cool-looking motorcycles.

Today was different, though.

Today, they were going to the park to catch bumblebees. According to Raf, the Camaro was on a covert mission to learn more about Earth and its inhabitants. So Raf thought it would be a good idea to study Earth's most essential pollinator. The Camaro had even offered to give them a ride. Since Jack's mom usually carpooled with another nurse on Tuesdays, Jack thought it would be okay to go as long as they didn't get caught. The car obviously knew how to drive, and it was a 1970's make so technically, it was a legal adult (even if it did spend Saturday mornings in front of the TV).

Before they left the house, Jack made peanut butter and honey sandwiches. He grabbed himself a coke, a big bottle of ice water, and a Juicy Juice for Raf. Instead of taking two Fruit Rollups, he snatched the whole box; Mom was rarely home so she wouldn't notice anyway. Plus, Jack could always blame it on Miko, since she was always barging into the house uninvited.

The girl had just moved to Jasper from Tokyo with her parents. Jack babysat for her _one time_ before she found out about the robot. Ever since then, she had taken it upon herself to tutor it in the ways of heavy metal. She had even written the robot its very own "theme" song. Titled, "Angry Bumblebee Car" which sounded cute, but actually involved fake blood and a lot of intense screaming. A few weeks ago, Jack had gotten into serious trouble when the police showed up about a noise complaint. Luckily, one of the police officers was a huge metal fan, and instead of taking them to jail, he helped Miko balance the sound system—_after_ he called all of their parents.

"Miko's going to meet us at the park," Jack explained, zipping up the lunch box. "Did you find a jar?"

Raf nodded. Standing on his tip-toes, he pushed the jar onto the counter. Whereas Jack was taller than most of the boys in his grade, Rafael could barely see over the countertop. The jar almost tipped over the edge, but Jack caught it just in time, shoving it into the backpack with the lunch box.

"My dad helped me poke holes in the lid," Raf said. "So whatever we catch, it won't suffocate to death. We even put leaves and some sugar water in there."

"Cool."

Jack hated it when other kids talked about their dads. He especially didn't want to talk about his own, so he quickly changed the subject. "I've got my phone," he said, patting the lump in his back pocket to double check. "We've got plenty of water, and the booster seat is in the garage. Are you ready to go?"

Raf gave him a miserable look. "Do I really have to sit in a booster seat?"

"You have to. It's the law."

"But I'm six. Almost seven."

"Yeah, but you weigh next to nothing," Jack said logically. "If you don't like it, then start eating more." He paused, looking around. Then he snatched a loaf of bread out of the cupboard and pushed it into Raf's hands before heading to the garage. "Here."

As Jack turned his back, Raf made a face at the bread and put it back on the counter.

The Camaro was waiting for them in the garage. Its bright yellow paint was scratched all over, and there was a crack in the windshield, thin like a long thread of spider silk. Jack's mom hated driving the Camaro around town; she said it made them looked like they were living in the ghetto, and since Jasper was a small town, _everyone_ noticed the car's scratched up paint. She had bought it when they first moved to Jasper, when they couldn't afford anything else. Eventually, she was going to sell it, which worried Jack because even though he didn't understand its strange beeping language, he felt a lot safer knowing that something bigger than Dad was living the garage.

The passenger door swung open with a series of cheerful bleeps. Whatever it said, it made Raf smile as he clambered into the backseat. Jack had already put the booster seat in the middle, knowing that if he didn't, Raf might 'accidentally' forget to do it himself.

"It's good to see you, too," Raf said, giving the back of the driver's seat a fond pat. "Did your boss like our report?"

The speakers quivered with a low whir.

Reaching for the seatbeltRaf's smile fell as the front seat adjusted itself back into place.

"Oh."

"What'd he say?" Jack asked, climbing in next. He still hadn't figured out how Raf was able to understand the car, although it was probably some , kind of alien Morse code or programming language.

"He said he appreciates the effort we put into the essay, but the reports we've been writing just aren't up to military standards, so he got into a lot of trouble for all the spelling errors."

"But I spell checked it and everything."

"They weren't impressed that we wrote about cartoons again, either."

Hearing that disappointed Jack because Saturday morning cartoons were an integral part of human culture. _All_ _kids_ watched cartoons. Jack's dad used to yell at him for it; he used to say that Jack was too damn old to care about kid shows. Maybe he was right. If nine was too old, then eleven was probably even worse. Still, Jack liked them, and he liked being able to talk to the other boys at school about the new episodes, so maybe he would stop when he was twelve.

Reaching up, Jack pushed the button clipped onto the front seat visor. The garage door trembled as the machines pulled it up, letting in a wave of heat. The air conditioning kicked on as soon the sunlight poured into the garage. Both boys smelled like sunscreen, but Jack had brought an extra bottle just in case. Summertime was so different from what he had grown up with. He had never had to wear sunscreen in April before moving to Jasper; he couldn't imagine braving the heat without it in June.

"Well," Jack told the car, buckling his seatbelt as it pulled out of the driveway. "I forgot to turn in my history textbook when school ended. You can borrow it if you want."

Raf raised an eyebrow. "You forgot your history textbook, too?"

It wasn't that Jack liked reading them. He was supposed to bring all of the books back on the last day of school, but the Camaro's curiosity about what lay beyond the garage door had finally gotten the better of it. It was all Jack could do to keep it from destroying the house. Jack missed the bus that day because he had to stay and clean up the kitchen, so even though the robot gave him an emergency ride to school, it wasn't exactly his fault for forgetting to turn in his textbooks.

"I'll give them back mom when registers me for school," he said after a minute, watching the other cars go by. There weren't many; Jasper was a small town. It had three stoplights, one public pool, a bowling alley, and about 4,000 residents. There was a bank, and a hospital, too, but the hospital was ancient and smelled weirder than most. Most patients who ended up in serious, life-threatening conditions were life-flighted to the city. That's what Jack's mom did for a living. She helped the surgeons stabilize patients so they could be transferred to a real trauma center. Jack's Dad used to say that she was only a nurse because she wasn't smart enough to be a real doctor; none of that was true. His mom was a hero. And nobody could change his mind.

After a few minutes of driving, they pulled into a mostly empty parking lot. The park itself was pretty small, with a few trees here and there, and a small playground. The lawn was thick and moist, with beds of daisies scattered all over, though it probably wouldn't stay like that for long. Last year, Jasper suffered an awful summer drought. The city banned excessive water use, which meant everyone had to stop watering their backyards. Doing so had turned the grass brown and crunchy, which robbed all the fun out of playing outside.

Before Jack could even unbuckle his seatbelt, the driver door flew open as Miko—appearing out of seemingly nowhere—leaped into the front seat. "Petal to the metal, Bee—we gotta blow this joint!"

Jack did a double take. "Bee?"

"Short for Bumblebee," Raf quipped. "It's his name."

Jack stared incredulously. "You named him? When did this happen?"

Miko smiled wickedly. "It was Raf's idea. My song inspired him."

"But it, he, the car—it's the exact opposite of angry!"

"Who cares? We gotta go!" Sliding down into the driver's seat, Miko pointed in the direction of a pleasant-looking Japanese couple. "Look! Bad guys!"

"Miko," Raf said, confused. "Those are your parents."

"Yeah," Jack said, "what gives?"

"They said I have to clean my room when I get home. Come on, Bee, you're my getaway car. Let's go."

"He's not your getaway car," Jack protested, ducking down. "What are you going to do all summer if you're grounded all the time?"

Miko rolled her eyes. "What's _your_ mom going to say when my parents tell her that you drove yourself _and_ a first grader to the park without a license?"

Well, she did have a point.

"Fourth-grader," Raf corrected, also sinking down as far as he could. "I skipped some grades."

"Sorry, guys," Jack said, "but my mom will ground me until the end of time if she finds out we're here. We'll have to come back another day."

"But won't Miko get into trouble for running away?" Raf asked.

Suddenly, the Camaro started up again. Slowly, it backed out of the parking space and rolled out onto the street. It went slow, almost as if it were tiptoeing. As if it didn't want to be seen.

Miko grinned, delighted that Bumblebee had indulged in her mischief. "Too late."

But something was wrong.

Jack felt it in the slow, careful way the car was driving. It paused around every corner, even when it didn't need to, like how Jack looked over his shoulder every morning during the school year when he had to walk to the bus stop by himself. He put his hand on the door, just below the passenger the window where there was a long, jagged scratch that had been filled in with some kind of metal. It looked like a bad scar. Whatever his reasons, Bumblebee had always kept watch over Jack and his friends. He had even kept Jack's mom safe on the freeway; "losing control of the wheel" had actually saved her life a few times.

Jack trusted that Bumblebee would do anything to keep them all safe.

And he was right.

* * *

None of the kids realized it—and how could they when they had never encountered a Vehicon?—but two black and purple muscle cars had just driven past the park. Not good. Not good at all. Luckily, Bumblebee had parked on the other side of an SUV, which blocked him from their view.

As they drove by, Bumblebee's signature yellow paint went unnoticed. When they were gone, he snuck out of the lot and headed in the opposite direction. Then he turned off his speakers so as not to alarm the children and sent a quick message to base. Three years had passed since the Deceptions had been seen out in the open. Seeing them now, in Jasper, Nevada of all places could only mean one thing: Megatron had returned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Jack sighed with relief when they got home in one piece. It was a slow drive. Especially for a car that liked to spin cookies off-road in the middle of the desert just to get dirty enough so that Jack's mom would take him to the car wash. Climbing out of the passenger seat, Jack hit the button to close the garage door.

"Wait," Jack told Bumblebee. "Don't transform yet."

Reaching into the backseat, Jack pulled out Raf's booster seat and dumped it in the corner with his backpack. He also found a crumbled-up juice box on Miko's side of the car.

"You guys can't just leave stuff in there," he told the younger kids. "Bumblebee isn't a normal car. He could get hurt if he transforms with this in him."

"Oh," Raf said, putting a hand on Bumblebee's foot. "I'm sorry."

Transforming, Bumblebee chirped reassuringly. He gave the boy a very fond pat on the head.

"So now what?" Miko asked.

Raf looked up at Jack with hopeful eyes, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his small nose. "Can we use your laptop to watch a movie?"

"Can you set up the projector?" Jack asked.

Raf nodded.

"Then, yeah. Go ahead."

"Okay!" The younger boy grabbed Miko's hand and pulled her away. "Come on, Miko. Jack's mom bought a new racing movie. It almost got rated PG 13."

"Does it have explosions?"

Again, Raf nodded.

"Then sign me up!"

Jack shook his head as the two bounded out of the room. When they were gone, he turned to Bumblebee. As the bot transformed, he cast a dark shadow over Jack. The garage ceiling was low, so he had to sit down or else his head would put another hole in the drywall. "You weren't actually sneaking away from Miko's parents," he asked, "were you?"

Bumblebee shook his head.

"If something happens, though, your military friends will help. Right?"

At that, Bumblebee launched into a tirade of beeps, buzzes, and whirs. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he flexed his arms (he was a muscle car after all). He punched a battered fist into his other palm. Even without words, Jack got the gist of what Bumblebee was telling him.

"You're probably right," he teased, "but you can let your friends help you. I bet they miss you."

That got an accusing finger brandished under Jack's direction. He looked away, laughing nervously. "Yeah, you're right."

Bumblebee didn't talk much about his military friends, not even to Raf. But Jack knew they were close. Two of them were listed as emergency contacts in Jack's phone under ARCEE and CLIFF. Every now and then, when they couldn't get a hold of Bee directly, they sent texts to Jack's phone to check on him. They weren't long texts, usually only about three or four words long, and often went something like:

**_STILL ROUGHIN' IT COWBOY?_**

and

**_r u ok?_**

It was strange getting texts from robots Jack had never met. What were they like? They weren't _all_ going to try to live in his garage, were they?

One alien was hard enough to keep out of trouble. In fact, it was a miracle that Mom still had no idea that the family car regularly helped Jack with his chores; lately, Jack had taken to letting Bumblebee dry dishes in hopes of teaching him that human things were _fragile_. Maybe one day Mom would find out and see how helpful Bumblebee really was.

And then they wouldn't have to get a new car.

* * *

The day went on without any major incidents. Miko managed to clog the toilet again, but in her defense, the house had old pipes, and clogs were normal unless you used _precisely_ the right amount of toilet paper. Otherwise, the kids mostly watched movies and hung out. They taught Bumblebee how to play Monopoly, except instead of using pretend money, they used Jack's mom's secret stash of gummy bears.

Raf's parents came to pick him up at four. Soon after, Jack had to kick Miko out of the house. She lived nearby. Plus, Mom told him that she had to stay late to help cover someone else's shift but would be home by five with pizza.

Six o'clock came around, though, and Jack's mom still wasn't home. Weird. The carpool should have dropped her off by now. Maybe she was just picking up the pizza like she said, Jack reasoned. Maybe she got stuck in a long line or something.

By seven thirty, Jack sent her a text. A half hour passed with no response. Jack sent another text, this one snarkier than the last. Mom hated snarky. She would probably respond right away with a lecture on watching his tone.

**_Why do you get to be late and I don't?_**

**_Mom?_**

**_Mommmm?_**

**_Hello?_**

When the microwave clock struck 9:10 PM, Jack decided to call the hospital. He figured there was probably an emergency and the doctors needed extra help. But when he called the head nurse, she sounded confused to hear that someone was looking for June. "Nurse Darby left at four with her ride. Did she ever make it home?"

"Um, no," Jack said, scratching the back of his head. He knew now, for sure, that something was wrong. Something was really wrong. "It's probably a misunderstanding. I'll call her cell phone. Thanks."

"Jack, hold on a sec—"

As Jack hung up, the house seemed suddenly a lot darker than it had before, and he practically jumped four feet when the icemaker turned on, grinding loudly as it crushed the new ice. That stupid icemaker! Jack hated that thing. At night, when he was all by himself, he could hear it turn from his bedroom, making noises that sounded a lot like strangers walking around in the empty house in the middle of the night. Normally, Jack pretending to be unbothered, but…

He couldn't do it.

Not tonight.

He just couldn't sleep by himself tonight.

So he plugged the flip phone back into its charger, locked the front door, and went to his room. Then he grabbed all the bedding from his bed, plus all of the pillows from his mom's bedroom, and dragged them back to the garage. He didn't care if she came home only to find out that there were no pillows left in the house, or that Jack had stayed up all night, watching rated R movies in the garage.

Mom could yell at him all she wanted.

As long as she came home to do it.

* * *

Morning came.

At first, when Jack woke up sprawled across an inflatable pool toy, surrounded by spilled popcorn, DVD cases, and every pillow in the house, he was confused. The _Mad Max_ DVD was still playing its menu theme on repeat. Reaching over, Jack closed the laptop, and the projector turned off with a wink.

"Morning," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair, which stood on end in all directions. Crawling out of the mess, Jack stumbled to his feet and stretched.

Bumblebee was sitting in the corner, watching him curiously. This was a new experience for him. Jack had never slept in the garage; he had certainly never built a nest of such epic proportions. The robot pointed to Jack's makeshift bed, chirping quizzically.

"Sleepover stuff," Jack said, stifling a yawn. "It's what kids do with the friends. We watch movies together, eat junk food, and try to stay up all night. I used to have them all the time my friends from the other school before we moved to Jasper."

Bumblebee held out his hands, with the index fingers curled slightly. He linked them together, then reversed the motion. It was the baby-sign for friend. Jack had learned it in pre-school when he was a toddler. He used to know more signs, but he could only remember the ones for bacon, the letter J for Jack, and turtle. He was thinking about trying to learn again, but the library was shot for useful books and Mom was pretty strict about him using the internet except for school. Maybe when he got into college, he could find a good teacher.

"Yeah," Jack said, mirroring the motion. "You're my friend."

He gave the 'bot a solid fist bump (for good measure), then wandered to the kitchen. He could smell the coffee from the garage. Mom didn't have a lot of vices. But coffee. Coffee was very important in the Darby household. Even on Mom's day off, the pot was usually half gone by the time Jack woke up. Looking at it, he saw that it was still full.

"Mom?" he called, but all he heard was the hum of the air conditioner. Grabbing his phone, he checked for any new texts.

There were three.

One, from a girl he liked (he quickly responded with a smiley face).

Two from ARCEE and CLIFF.

Before Jack opened the messages, he called his mom. The call, however, went straight to voicemail. It didn't even ring. Jack was about to search the entire house—maybe she came home late and fell asleep somewhere?—when he happened to catch a glimpse through the kitchen window.

Two black cars were parked outside the house, blocking the driveway. Both had their lights on, but neither one had a driver, and Jack didn't recognize either model. Jack snapped a picture with his phone.

Awesome.

Things in the Darby house just got even weirder.

"Are they black cars?" Jack asked, almost running back to the garage. He found Bumblebee cautiously over the sleepover mess, poking inquisitively at the pool pad. The pressure must have been too much, though, though, because the green plastic popped suddenly, startling them both.

"The ones you were hiding from yesterday," Jack repeated as the toy deflated, whistling pathetically. "They're cars, too, right? Are they black?"

Bee's optics twisted, narrowing.

"See?" Jack showed him the picture. "They're blocking the driveway."

"Arcee and Cliff texted you, too." Opening the messages, Jack read them out loud. "Arcee says, OP wants you home. Cliff says, yeehaw with a laughing face." Jack looked up. "Wait. You're _leaving_?"

Bumblebee responded hesitantly. The sound he eventually made was reassuring, maybe even apologetic, but Jack wasn't sure.

"What about the guys outside?"

Bumblebee pointed to the phone, then made a motion with his thumbs as if he were texting. Jack took a guess and sent the picture to both contacts. He was still looking at the phone when mouthguard Bee wore over his mouth retracted.

"We should leave."

The voice was scratchy and weak, barely audible over the static.

Jack's eyes snapped up. He stared. "Did you just…_talk_ _to_ _me_?!"

Bumblebee made an impatient gesture as the phone buzzed in Jack's hand. It was another text from Cliff. Just then, Jack heard thumping outside the garage door. It sounded like footsteps. **Heavy** footsteps. Stray kernels of popcorn bounced off the floor with each thump.

Looking back at the phone, Jack quickly read the text message.

"All this time…I mean. I get it. You sound awful. But I thought you _literally_ couldn't speak English. Did you break your voice? Does it hurt?"

The Autobot didn't answer. Turning he touched a tentative hand to his throat, then transformed, engine revving.

"Cliff says he's nearby. Do you want back up?"

The footsteps were getting louder. Jack heard the driveway's concrete pavement crack loudly under the stomping feet. Through a tiny crack under the garage door, Jack saw a shadow moving around.

"Uh, I'm typing yes," he decided. "We want backup. We _definitely_ want back up."

Bumblebee laid on the horn, long and loud, headlights flashing as the radio went crazy. The driver's door popped open, beckoning Jack.

"I can't leave," he protested, backing up until he could feel the wall behind him. "What about mom?"

Static filled the garage. "Jack—"

Something heavy slammed into the bottom of the garage door, denting it. Cracks of sunlight spilled into the garage. Long pointed claws curled underneath the door, crunching the metal in its iron grip. Relenting, Jack scrambled to the car. The cab had a slight chemical smell that wasn't normal, but Jack didn't pay much attention to it. He was already clicking the seatbelt into place when his phone buzzed with another text.

And what happened next, Jack would only be able to recall as a blur.


End file.
